The Dwarven Keep of Perchan is a titanic, safe nation, ruled by High Councillor Grimald with an iron fist, and renowned for its pith helmet sales, anti-smoking policies, and smutty television. The compassionate, cynical population of 21.968 billion Perchaks are ruled by a mostly-benevolent dictator, who grants the populace the freedom to live their own lives but watches carefully for anyone to slip up.

The enormous, corrupt, well-organized government juggles the competing demands of Education, Healthcare, and Defense. It meets to discuss matters of state in the capital city of Perchan. The average income tax rate is 96.3%.

The frighteningly efficient Perchanian economy, worth a remarkable 3,723 trillion Klippemarks a year, is quite specialized and led by the Tourism industry, with major contributions from Information Technology and Arms Manufacturing. State-owned companies are reasonably common. Average income is an impressive 169,478 Klippemarks, and distributed extremely evenly, with little difference between the richest and poorest citizens.

Loudmouthed journalists are given the chop, a favorite "life hack" for gap year backpackers is to pretend to be homeless for government handouts, surgical tape has taken on a distinctly red color, and tough diplomacy is often best handled with a nutcracker. Crime, especially youth-related, is totally unknown, thanks to a capable police force and progressive social policies in education and welfare. Perchan's national animal is the Perchanian Bear, which frolics freely in the nation's many lush forests, and its national religion is the Congregation of High Iron.

Perchan is ranked 5,571^st in the world and 291^st in Lazarus for Most Cultured, scoring 148 on the Snufflebottom-Wiggendum Pentatonic Scale.