The trailer for Join Us first appeared during the Xbox Showcase in June, offering a glimpse of a darkly humorous cooperative cult simulator. In the clip, robed cultists ride on pigs, fire machine guns, and the sequence culminates with a terrifying image of colossal, Cthulhu‑like tentacles. What didn’t make the final edit was the now‑infamous “snake gun,” a weapon that, according to Joe Dietsch—CEO and creative director of Wolf Haus Games—originated from a child’s off‑hand suggestion.
"One of the team members’ kids asked, ‘What would a snake‑shooting gun look like?’" Dietsch recalls. "Because we had built a modular gun system that could be scaled in minutes, I whipped up a prototype in about half an hour. The kid was blown away, and the weapon stayed in the game." This anecdote captures the chaotic, improvisational spirit that defines Join Us, an open‑world sandbox where players can recruit followers—or teammates—to build a 1970s‑style cult.
It also highlights the studio’s technology‑first mindset, which has allowed a high‑fidelity title to emerge from a remarkably small development crew. Michael Abbott, Wolf Haus’s chief operating officer, summed up their ambition: "We wanted to be disruptors. While everyone assumed you needed a hundred‑person studio to deliver a game of this scope, we insisted we could do it with twelve." Critics called the claim impossible, but Abbott and his teammates drew on their indie‑film backgrounds, where they routinely achieved big results on shoestring budgets. After 80 pitch meetings, the studio finally secured equity financing from Krafton and Lifelike Capital, both of which took stakes in Wolf Haus.
The founders’ Hollywood connections run deep. Dietsch studied film at Chapman University alongside Louie Gibson—son of actor‑director Mel Gibson—and the two later co‑wrote and co‑directed the indie features Happy Hunting and Manifest West. Abbott is the son of veteran makeup artist Larry Abbott and helped launch Ascendant Pictures, the production company founded by Chris Roberts before his transition to the Star Citizen universe.
Abbott later produced movies such as Fight for ’84, starring Jamie Foxx. Join Us began as a personal experiment for Dietsch in Unreal Engine.
"Unreal was free to download, and I’d always loved games but felt the barrier to creating one was huge," he explains. He taught himself the engine through YouTube tutorials, built a few modest prototypes, and eventually settled on a doomsday‑cult concept that merged his love of survival mechanics with grindhouse cinema aesthetics. The early proof‑of‑concept was deliberately pushed to its limits to expose technical hurdles.
When Dietsch showed the demo to Abbott, the latter recognized its potential and introduced it to Dooma, a production partner. Dooma Wendschuh, Wolf Haus’s chief financial officer and narrative director, entered the picture after a varied career that spanned film production, screenwriting, and video‑game narrative work.
In the early 2000s he founded Sekretagent Productions, providing story services for titles like Prince of Persia: The Two Thrones, Assassin’s Creed, and Batman: Arkham Origins. Later he launched several tech ventures, most notably the cannabis formulation company Ebbu, which sold for roughly C$430 million (US$330 million).
After selling Ebbu, Wendschuh bought a remote island restaurant in Canada, intending to retire. A sudden call from his old Hollywood‑Hills roommate, Michael Abbott, pulled him back into game development after he saw Dietsch’s prototype and was "blown away." Wendschuh then recruited Reid Schneider—former Warner Bros.
Games VP and current head of Raccoon Logic, the studio behind Journey to the Savage Planet—as a strategic advisor. Schneider brought on Pierre‑Olivier Chartrand, a former Ubisoft Montreal programmer, to serve as chief technology officer. By mid‑2023 the core team was in place, but securing funding proved difficult amid a market downturn. After initial outreach, the studio signed with CAA in Los Angeles, re‑pitched in 2024, and finally closed a seed round with Lifelike Capital and Krafton.
The partnership with CAA, which also represents titles like 007: First Light, proved crucial. "Derek Douglas, our CAA agent, had represented me for twelve years in the gaming world and previously ran the video‑game department at William Morris," Wendschuh notes. This industry clout, combined with veteran talent, helped convince investors to back a project that would be built by just 13 full‑time staff. From the outset, Wolf Haus emphasized tool development to keep the project scalable.
"Every system in the game needed to be debuggable and extendable by a single person," says Dietsch. The studio invested heavily in internal toolkits during the first year, essentially building the infrastructure for the game while simultaneously designing its gameplay.
This approach also future‑proofed the engine for any subsequent titles the studio might create. Funding from Krafton and Lifelike was structured as equity, allowing Wolf Haus to self‑finance development. "The investors are motivated to increase the studio’s enterprise value, so they encourage us to build robust tools," explains Wendschuh.
This philosophy sometimes slows short‑term progress but enables a small team to deliver a large‑scale open world without sacrificing quality. When asked about generative AI, Dietsch gives a clear answer: the studio does not use it for creative work. "We believe a human touch is essential. Turning development over to an AI would defeat why we get up each morning," he says.
Wendschuh adds that the only AI tools they employ are mundane productivity aids—calendar scheduling and email drafting. Interestingly, Krafton, which has publicly positioned itself as an "AI‑first" company, explicitly required Wolf Haus to avoid generative AI in the creative pipeline, mirroring similar statements from Krafton‑owned Neon Giant. The commitment to handcrafted content extends to the game’s massive six‑kilometre‑square map and its 15,000 voice lines, all recorded by human actors.
"Even as a tiny indie, we felt it was vital that every pixel and every line of dialogue be human‑made," Dietsch emphasizes. Dietsch also reflects on the contrast between filmmaking and game development. In film, an idea can take years to reach production, requiring approvals from studios, directors, and actors.
In games, an idea can be prototyped within hours, inserted into the engine, and instantly tested. This immediacy fuels his enthusiasm for interactive media. Wendschuh points out that movies are heavily front‑loaded: securing a high‑profile director or star is often a prerequisite for green‑lighting, creating a high barrier to entry.
By contrast, the video‑game market has fewer gatekeepers, making it easier for small teams to achieve success without A‑list talent. Both creators agree that, regardless of medium, the core mission remains the same—to craft an experience, tell a story, and engage an audience. In summary, Wolf Haus’s journey illustrates how a blend of Hollywood pedigree, savvy tech development, and disciplined financing can enable a twelve‑person studio to produce a sprawling, high‑quality game without leaning on generative AI. Their story underscores the power of small, focused teams, the importance of building reusable tools, and the enduring value of human creativity in interactive entertainment.