Black and grey knotwork tattoo shaped like armour bands with a central emblem, across the upper arm and forearm with the elbow bent.

Knotwork armour bands on upper arm and forearm

Blackwork · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo wraps around the upper arm and forearm as two bands styled like armour or bracers, with a circular emblem holding an angular figure on the upper arm. Interlaced knotwork, scrolls and panels are outlined in heavy black lines, with grey shading that gives the surfaces a stone or metal texture. The photograph is taken at an angle with the elbow bent, and the work is shown in soft indoor light against a dark fabric.

Blackwork Upper arm Forearm Knotwork Emblem Scrollwork

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Take it to an artist as a reference. A good artist will make it yours rather than copy someone else's tattoo.

A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The quarry lads wanted their bands to look like the carved wall at Lanercost, so I spent a fortnight on the bench with rubbings pinned to my knee. Every knot had to close on itself without a break. Every panel needed a bevel that caught the window light the way worked stone does at dusk, and I hammered the rivet heads flat so nothing would snag a sleeve. Harl Penrose paid in advance and asked no questions, which was why I took the work.

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When the pair was finished I fitted them over the oak block I'd shaped to match the measurements, then sent word for Tam Garrow to come and collect. He tried the first band on over his coat in my doorway. The outer panel bit into the leather and would not sit flat, and he looked at me as if I had cheated him. I had not. I had cut the knots to match the picture on the rubbing, not the lad who had ordered them, and I told him so plainly.

Penrose sent back word that the stone was too cold for his purposes and he would not pay the balance. I did not argue. I cut the bands apart along their seams, re-laced the panels to the wider strap I used for my own forearm, and wore them down to the quay on the next market morning. The ferryman glanced at the carved circle on my elbow, then at my hands, and let me cross without the fare.

The spare pair hangs on the peg beside the forge now. In the early light the knots go grey as river shale, and for a moment they look like something that has been waiting a long time for someone to pick them up.