By Nathan Douglas Gardner
KILLINGTON — Each November, as Vermont’s landscape transitions from autumn’s vibrant hues to the quiet calm before ski season, the Killington Grand Resort transforms into the lively hub of Carnage Con. Held over the weekend of Nov. 1-3, the event marked its 27th annual gathering, one of New England’s longest-running conventions dedicated to tabletop gaming, drawing enthusiasts from Vermont and neighboring states. For three days, the resort was alive with the buzz of dice rolls, rulebook debates, and a community united by a love for gaming.
Tabletop gaming’s evolution from niche to nearly mainstream now includes blockbuster adaptations of games like “Dungeons & Dragons” and conventions like Gen Con in Indiana, which attract tens of thousands. But Carnage Con maintains its small-town appeal, blending nostalgic tradition with Vermont’s distinct charm. Families, longtime fans, teens, and newcomers alike come together in an event that feels at once intimate and inclusive.
The convention offers a diverse array of tabletop genres, from board games and role-playing games (RPGs) to collectible card games (CCGs), live-action role-playing (LARPs), and miniatures. Carnage Con began in 1998 in West Lebanon, New Hampshire, with a simple goal: to provide New England gamers with a welcoming space to gather and play. After a few relocations across the Upper Valley, the convention found its current home at Killington Grand in 2013, where it has flourished.
This year’s vendor area featured a cozy marketplace across three rooms, with treasures for every tabletop enthusiast. Tony Vandenberg, owner of Blackmoon Games in West Lebanon and winner of the 2024 Valley News Reader’s Choice award, was among the exhibitors. Also featured was Springfield native Cathy Preble, who displayed hand-crocheted dolls, including a nearly two-foot frog prince crafted with over 35,000 stitches. Preble, a con circuit veteran, shared the story behind each doll, adding a personal touch to the bustling marketplace.
Attendance this year approached 960—an encouraging return toward pre-pandemic numbers, which once exceeded 1,300. Last year’s attendance topped 800, reflecting a steady recovery. Scott Lasell, a USPS worker from Newport, New Hampshire, and a longtime convention organizer, was pleased with the turnout. “How many are we up to, Emily?” he asked the young woman at the registration desk. Dressed festively in a long black dress, Emily Gray, the volunteer coordinator of Carnage Con, replied, “963.” Lasell nodded, satisfied, adding, “Each year, we vote on whether to continue, and 2025 is looking promising. After we went virtual, we weren’t sure if people would come back.”
The convention’s demographics have also evolved. Once predominantly male, Carnage Con now draws an almost equal number of men and women, reflecting broader changes in the tabletop gaming community. “It’s the way of things—a new generation coming in, and the con coming with them,” Lasell noted.
Throughout the weekend, Carnage Con’s strong sense of community was evident. Attendees celebrated milestones, including the launch of a new board game by an attendee and her fiancé, Nick, a convention regular. “There’s so much to do here, and it’s cozy enough where you can relax, escape, and play games,” he said. Nearby, an artist showcased meticulously painted miniatures, each crafted with precision, highlighting the event’s blend of creativity and camaraderie.
The Killington Grand Resort’s staff also welcomed the lively atmosphere. Tyler, a three-year staff member and college student from Rutland, enjoyed the event’s energy. “It’s great that we’re able to host something for so many people, especially when everyone’s so happy to be here,” he said. A D&D fan, Tyler acknowledged the convention’s significance for the resort, particularly during the off-season. “This is a quieter time for us. We’re glad to have them.”
As tabletop gaming gains mainstream recognition, Carnage Con feels oddly nostalgic—a reminder of a time when games brought people together face-to-face, without screens, streams, or big-name sponsors. For many attendees, the event is more than a convention; it’s a seasonal reunion during Vermont’s dark, quiet pre-winter days.
