The truth was that the Wizard was both correct and incorrect. He had ascertained correctly that the elf, whose name was indeed Clang-bok, actually was at least somewhat aware of its surroundings and choosing to be unresponsive. Because the Wizard had not been informed of the full circumstances of the investigation, nor of Clang-bok's discovery, he had mistakenly presumed that since the creature was in a powerful state of shock, which was quite true on several levels, that it was choosing to remain unresponsive only because of discomfort related to the obviously unsuitable environment, given what the Wizard knew of "Christmas" from his studies and limited observation of the media-culture. The additional temperature and smell of food were crucial to bringing Clang-bok out of his shock induced rigidity, but the glittery, kitschy holiday decorations and festive lights being hung around the otherwise perfectly respectable briefing room in no way reflected Clang-bok's native environment.
Of course nobody in the room, including Sgt Brax who had decided to help set up and keep a closer eye on the Wizard, could have possibly known that. This was because Santa's "Werkershoppe" had never, ever had a security breach and had been granted unlimited secrecy rights under various treaties reached after the war. Santa knew all the bad things anyone in the world had done as a kid, AT LEAST. That's what you might call leverage, and he had a lot of weight.
Other than exactly 2 walk-through inspections, the last of which had been in 1978, even the people and other entities at the very top had no idea what went on in The North Pole other than what was minimally necessary to transact commerce. North Korea might seem an open society by comparison, and Santa had certainly been able enforce his privacy and other rights. He really DID see you when you're sleeping if he's got a reason to come looking, as it turns out. The DIMSAT flyover order had pretty much taken OIC by surprise, and at first it had been taken for a bad holiday joke by the IT specialists. About 25 seconds later the confirmation codes and status requests had started coming in. This was not a drill.
Clang-bok was indeed quite cold, beginning to get hungry, and otherwise uncomfortable, but because of its specialized duties was used to those things in a way that very few other elves in the Shoppe(SHO-pah) were... well, had been.
Clang-bok was entirely unable to process most of what was going on around it and had no real way to understand what anyone was saying. It heard distantly, but could not really process much less respond to, the Wizard's friendly greetings and questions. It hadn't the slightest clue how this was possible or who was speaking and looking it over so intently, and so it only confused Clang-bok all the more. Because the elf had no idea where it was and who these strange gigantic people were, where this strange place was, and had also never experienced unconsciousness before Clang-bok was unsure that it had not died, but this could not be Heaven.
Clang-bok did not believe in Heaven anymore after what it had seen, but it had also seen itself rising above the world not long after deciding to turn away from the warmth of the cooling crater (something Clang-bok had no word for, nor coffee for that matter) that had been all that was left of its whole world and let its old enemy, the lethal cold of The Outsvilden, finally win after so long. Then Clang-bok had suddenly been lying down, numb and dazed, in a very bright, cold room with strange gigantic people speaking loud nonsense and leading it about.
Worse than the confusion was the hollow, cold feeling in the elf's chest and gut like nothing that had ever happened in the elf's world before. Clang-bok had lost ALL Elfwellendt, the good cheer and positivity of the elfin nature. It was a major part of what made the elf market so high demand. Imagine having a dog that's ALWAYS very happy to see you when you come home, but doesn't jump or sniff ass or crap on the carpet. Instead it asks to help you with your things and begins to chat pleasantly about all of the tasks that it got done for you today while you were gone or will simply listen to you bitch about work, give you a hug, and bring you your preferred beverage with a genuine, happy, and hopeful smile. This was Elfwellendt as most of the world knew it and most folks aware that they exist just LOVE elves for it.
For the elves of the Shoppe Elfwellendt was a necessary way of life and spreading Elfwellendt all over the world the source of their singular sense of purpose. It was the very fabric of The North Pole's society and if an elf could not be positive and display Elfwellendt about something it was considered beyond rude and foolish to say anything at all. Clang-bok had so far seen nothing of the sort in the strange place or from the even stranger people, and had none to give in addition to its other problems.
But as the briefing room began to warm and it's once harsh and perfectly good utilitarian lighting began to sparkle off of the decorations Clang-bok began to feel the horrible tension in its body ease a little bit at a time. These people clearly were not so very bad. They even set a very interesting smelling brown cake of some sort in front of the ever more hungry elf, and the strange warm black liquid seemed to be a thing that these giants drink. It was when they all began to sing, at first just the tallest one that talked, but eventually all of them, that Clang-bok finally realized that it was not dead, that these people wanted Clang-bok to feel comfortable and cared for. There was still Elfwellendt in the world. It wasn't much, but Clang-bok had never really needed much.
The Wizard crouched down in front of the chair at eye level with the elf that had been so motionlessly perched upon it for so long. The creature was clearly displaying more micro movements in the eyes and facial muscles. This was very good because he didn't need any sort of extraordinary perception to know that the mysterious and powerful man that had sought his aid was now on the very edge of his tolerance, in truth the Wizard was also a bit vexed and didn't blame him, and had brought two very well built gentlemen with him, in addition to the two staffers that had brought things in, when Sgt Brax had suddenly and without announcement decided to come in person and help with the decorations. The two "heavies" hadn't budged once since posting by the door and the message was clear. They HAD eventually joined in the singing the Wizard had started in an effort to buy time. One was a rather nice baritone as it turned out. The other was... not.
"You are safe here creature. We have much to discuss, but first I must know that you can hear me." The Wizard opened the package of brownies that a staffer had bought from a vending machine and put it in the path of the warm air heading toward the elf from the small space heater scavenged from one of the offices. The Wizard betrayed no sign of his immense relief and excitement when he finally saw the creature's eyes shift ever so slightly towards the food. He simply brought it closer in a casual way as everyone in the much disturbed briefing room sweated buckets, stared intently at the proceedings, and hummed various Christmas tunes with no real direction. Then the Wizard spoke with a very comforting tone once more saying, "I want you to be well. If this food is acceptable to you and you can hear me please take it and eat it. Nobody here wishes you harm. We are here to help... ah!"
Brax was just going to give his men the nod to take Mr. Wizard home when to his utter shock the elf suddenly and VERY quickly reached out and took the food from the crazy fucker's outstretched hand while he was still speaking that nonsense. Sgt Braxton stood in quiet amazement and no small amount of relief as he watched the creature eat a few tiny bites of the brownie by chewing them very quickly and thoroughly, like it was trying to set a processing record, but didn't at all seem inclined to glut itself. After a couple minutes of this the Wizard again emitted some of that gobbledygook and Brax distinctly heard Clang-bok in there somewhere. The elf looked at the Wizard and around the room for a moment before speaking something that sounded very much like German spoken at a ridiculous speed, but certainly wasn't. Brax did pick out the name again.
The Wizard said, "I asked the being if it could please tell us if it's name was Clang-bok. If I have understood correctly it said, "Yes. I am Clang-bok." followed by some unique words and references I could not translate fully. I believe that it asked if it was dead, but I cannot be sure until I can converse for some time and understand it's referenced meaning. This being's language seems to be deliberately and quite expertly confused and progress may continue to be slow initially. It might be necessary to use non linguistic media in the process of translation. Will you please bring to me a sketch pad and a notebook?"
Sgt Thaddeus Braxton allowed himself a small smile in his genuine relief that the terrible chance he'd taken on the Wizard had finally seemed to pay off. He nodded to one of the staffers that was sweating buckets, along with everyone else in the room but Clang-bok and the man who called himself a Wizard, and set him to the task. Brax then poured more coffee and sipped it while he watched Clang-bok munching away at the brownie a tiny bit at a time and tried very hard not to think about how his whole investigation now rested on the continued cooperation of a remarkably talented madman that believed himself to be an extraterrestrial. It was just too weird.