Fictionalizing isn't the same as making things up, and adapting isn't the same as making things up either. Even though Hogg had questionable morals, he still possessed a soul of pure gold.
No matter when or where, no matter what he faced, Hogg had always been an honest, good man. Lies were utterly incompatible with him; his heart held nothing but sincerity.
He couldn't wait to leave the accursed Spear of Adun, and then the accursed Aiur. Hogg didn't want to stay in this godforsaken place for another second. Maybe one day a planet-destroying attack would wipe out all those Knife-ears who had offended his eyes.
Gazing at the dead void around them, Lorgar stuck out his tongue and licked his nose. Ever since he had become a weasel, he'd always made that motion without thinking. He didn't care, though, and asked Hogg:
"Big Brother, when you answered that god's projection, were you really not lying to them? Just look at how those Pointy-ears turn out in the future. How could you call that stable and prosperous?"
"Don't slander me!" Seeing that no one was around, Hogg dragged Lorgar into a secluded corner away from the passageway and corrected his verbal slip.
"What do you mean, 'how they turn out'? They brought it all on themselves. Besides, aren't the Eldar in Alicia's territory living in stability and prosperity?
"You can eat whatever you want, but you can't just say whatever you want. If I hadn't taken those Eldar in, who knows what corner of the galaxy they'd have died in? I'm their Holy Father.
"Even if I didn't have the purest intentions when I took them in, deeds matter more than intentions. Just look at the attendants in the Eldar club. Every one of them is fair-skinned and beautiful, gorgeous