TL:DR: Dire Boar defeated, Ent encountered, healed of disease, communed with a strange lake creature beneath the crumbling Harrowmoor Castle. And Lady Chantrelle seems to have taken young Jacque to the Hall of Sleep.
The earth shaking might of the Mother of All Boar was no match for the accumulated power of the Barrowmaze veterans. As She approached bristles scraping the high ceiling of the cavern, the cleric Clonin retrieved an illuminated scroll from his haversack and intoned the syllables of power inscribed upon it. Instantly, the paper turned to ash, then swirled around the massive beast which seemed to shrink as it charged squealing ever more high pitched as it's stature was reduced to that of it children. A rough battle ensued between the party and the three pony sized pigs. Clonin knocked his head against the cavern wall and lost consciousness before the last perilous porcine protagonist was butchered.
After gathering treasure and surviving a further attack from a returning singular of boars, the group began their journey back to Harrowmoor, clutching the cure for Erik's debilitating disease, the Cave Lily. Travel was cross country and confusing in the dark tangle of the Dolmenwood. They got lost and spent a cold night in conversation with a friendly tree called Rootbound who told them of the Elven Princes who once ruled the wood but are now more rare, and of the sinister Cold Prince, who was banished. The old tree was particularly unhappy with the recent ruttings of goatmen amongst his roots.
It took three days to find once again the high cliffs of the Groaning Loch, and it cost a gold coin or so to convince the loan fisherman they spied to ferry them to the castle.
Returning to the somber confines of Harrowmoor, the company first visited Dr. Prunesqualor, who obligingly brewed a medicinal poultice while intimating dark suggestions that the Lady Harrowmoor had been corrupted by dark forces and was no longer an adequate protector of her daughter Violet. "Perhaps she needs to be removed from office," he murmured.
The evening meal with the family of the manor began uneventfully, notable for the absence of the young lad Jacque and the mysterious Lady Chantrelle. Presently, Resper and the learned men began to tell their tales, which fascinated the otherwise bored and tedious Lady of the manor. Tales and wine flowed and suddenly it was the witching hour, with Violet long since sent to bed. The strange lady bid they follow her lead, and, escorted by her clowder of cats, descended by a stair behind a bookcase in the study down down to a lake side cove for below the ramparts.
"Here is the source of my family's wisdom," she purred.
The moonlight caressed the waters of the cove and Erik felt compelled to sing a strange song that came to his mind unbidden, with words he did not understand. The lake water began to shine with a luminescent light and nebulous shape rose to the surface, more light and presence than true physicality, yet the minds of the visitors to Harrowmoor were overwhelmed, wallowing in total sensory overload.
They came to as the false dawn emerged and stumbled up the stair heavy of foot but enlightened by visions of cosmic import, a feeling that the brooding, skeletal claws of evil in the Barrowmaze was gathering strength again, opposed not by the Church (insular as it is) but by the wild chaos that was the Nag Lord. Their conflict will bring ruin to those caught in between.
A night in seance with the "Forroth" was a taxing affair. Though they planned to hurry after Jacque and Lady Chantrelle, who they assumed had absconded to the Hall of Sleep, but found that Sleep came heavy to themselves, sleeping a straight 48 hours once their heads hit the pillow.