Thaern: Even in the darkness, you manage follow the two men and the dwarf out of the hall and up the stairs, where they appear to have reached an impasse. You hear the dwarf say, "Can't read 'em, though... written in elven script. Either a you sunwalkers read it?" None of them have noticed you as of yet.
Ferus: You have no idea if what the patron's mood was [Sense Motive +3]. In any case, he's moved on now. You can't get to a point where you can see much better than a few feet in front of you, but you do manage to settle down a group of people enough that they stop pushing and begin to slowly move towards the exit [Diplomacy +8, roll of 19 on d20, total 27, success]. A person somewhere off to your left continues to call for a priest.
Quintus: You think you can hear Bluecoats back near the main exit to the lobby. Following the crowd, you eventually make your way there. Surely enough, a pair of Bluecoats, fully armed, stands in the doorway slowing people down. Although you can't see very well in the dark, they look distinctly perturbed. The gold braid and bars on the collar of one of them marks him as an officer. So far you can't seem to get his attention--there's just too many people. Having little to no choice in the matter, you aid them in their work, hurrying the crowd out of the concert hall in a quick and orderly fashion. When you've all finished, the officer turns to you, exasperated. "I suppose you want some sort of commendation for helping us. Very well, thank you most kindly." He turns back to his compatriot and starts to give some more orders. When he notices you haven't left, he sighs and asks, "May I help you?"
OOC for Uriel: I'm assuming that your outfit is civilian wear; please correct me if I'm wrong.
Roland: It's dark enough to cause problems for you as far as seeing things is concerned, but you can hear a lot of commotion straight ahead of you, including what you assume to be a group of people speaking in an upper-class dialect of Elf [Listen +5]; to the right, you hear nothing but the low hum of the masses exiting the balcony.
Seamus, Aston: You fight your way forward to the front of the crowd and hop up onto the stage. As compared to the main floor, the stage is deserted, dead, save for the deafening din of the pipe organ music. No canis are in sight [Seamus: Search +3, Spot +3]. Mintwhistle sits calmly at the organ, his back to you as the music thunders on. He either doesn't hear you ask for his autograph or he doesn't care that you asked.
