First, you need to take stock of your quarry.
You look them over and note a military posture. It’s pretty common among these Protectors from what you’ve seen. That suggests they’re taking their job seriously, even if they don’t like it – and you certainly see signs of boredom.
So you think you’ll have to work with their self-discipline, rather than against it. Maybe you can tempt them away from the door with an act of duty. Especially if it doesn’t seem like it’ll take them far.
The Bellingham and Burner scene has you thinking. It would be funny if you pretended to have lost a dog, and that he’s aggressive enough he even goes after you. So long as the door guard is the closest Protector to the scene, he’d probably rush to your aid.
You can’t see that actually working, but maybe something similar would. Like an argument that seems to turn violent. Bert’s not here, though, and Anthony is the only other actor around. You don’t think getting him to pull a stunt like this would be a good idea, even leaving aside his fear of greblings.
And it’s probably a worse idea to start a heated argument with someone who doesn’t know that you’re faking, for a number of reasons.
Maybe sympathy is the angle to go with. The brewery is in a nice, isolated spot. Perfect for someone who needs a break after a difficult ordeal. You might be able to strike up a conversation and lead it somewhere. Just got to make a show of things so nobody catches on.
So, after a bit of cover talk, you pretend to be exasperated.
“Minnie, I’ve just been through a life-or-death experience, I don’t think I’m up for this right now,” you grumble. “Your questions can wait a bit.”
“I suppose,” she says. “It’s just I’ve been doing enough running around I feel a bit worried that if I walk away, I’ll get caught up in something else. Or you will. And then we can’t finish this conversation.”
“Nonsense!” you reply with a halfhearted laugh. “I doubt there’s going to be a problem the Protectors specifically need you to solve. Just give yourself a break.”
She starts walking away. You move towards the office, lean against a wall next to the door, and let out a sigh of relief.
“Don’t stand there,” the grebling says suddenly. You’re a bit surprised, but you were expecting some sort of reaction.
“Oh, sorry! I’ve just been through a rough time.” You start pacing around a bit, mostly in hopes it’s enough to cover the sounds of Minnie moving. “I was in that tower down there, trying to help out a friend. But then the damn thing started falling apart.”
The grebling glances at the tower in the distance. You catch a glimmer of interest in their eyes.
“That’s a shame,” they say. “Good thing you’re okay. We’d be pretty lousy Protectors of Life if we let someone die on a site we were watching.”
You can’t get much of a read, but they definitely seem to be bored. They strike you as too duty-bound to wander far from here, but it just has to be far enough for Minnie to sneak in.
Ah, wait, you’ve got it.
“Well, I appreciate your concern,” you say, in a way that sounds vaguely miffed. You don’t think they were being intentionally dismissive. “I suppose it’s best if I don’t linger here.”
Then, you walk a short distance away and collapse as convincingly as you can.
There is a technique to make it look like your leg is broken, a contortionist taught you, and you used it quite a lot in your roles. So you try it here. The idea is to convice the Greblin you’re still hurt from the tower incident
You remember you had some fake blood on you, so you spill it close to your mouth, that ought to convince the Greblin you’re ill
Alternatively:
If the Greblin comes to your aid immediately, stand up shaking, pushing him off trying to “convince” him that you’re fine. Drag out the interaction as much as possible, arguing with him that he can’t leave his post