Or rather, he was. He died a few days ago.
It has been some months now, since the stoneworker decided to let his creativity flow freely and create a masterpiece so awesome it would define the rest of his life. So he asked me to get some free time from megaproject building duty, and I agreed, because there was not very much work left. He sat in his workshop for weeks, staring at some shale and bauxite rocks. He didn't even eat, and the otherwise friendly and happy dwarf didn't say a word. And then he got to work. There was something in his eyes - maybe the purple color or the flames shooting out of them - that told me he wasn't controlling his work, his work was controlling him.
And when the dust settled and the rythmic day-and-night hammering finally ceased, there stood a coffin. A shale coffin, and in masterfully inlaid bauxite was an image of the crafter himself. He stood next to it, confused, not knowing what to do, so I told him to get to work on the megaproject tower - it would clear his mind.
And as much as the coffin, the tower was becoming a marvell of stonecrafting. A giant shale tower, lined with bauxite statues. The mason was somewhere near the top, the rest had already gone to their room to get some rest. I was watching the mason, as he removed the last bit of stone block scaffolding. And then the whole southern wall bursted open.
I shouted, but to no avail - the whole top of the tower slowly toppled over, and broke trough all lower floors one by one, only to come to a stop in a crater of dust and broken walls. And blood. Oh god, the blood. And at that moment, it occured to me. The dwarf, or whatever had possessed him, had foreseen his death, and created for him a coffin of shale, decorated with bauxite, as a remembrance of the day he was buried beneath tons of shale, and some decorative bauxite...
Hell, I love DF.