Black and grey realism tattoo of segmented plate armour covering a full arm sleeve from shoulder to wrist.

Segmented armour arm sleeve

Realism · Shoulder · Black and grey · Photo

A full arm sleeve of segmented plate armour with rounded shoulder guard, horizontal banding and rivets, shown from the side against an orange patterned wall. The shading is smooth and highly contrasted, with strong highlights and deep shadows that give the metal a dimensional, polished look. The design runs from the shoulder down past the elbow to the wrist, and the image is mostly black ink and grey tones with only small touches of colour.

Realism Shoulder Upper arm Forearm Armour Sleeve Rivet Metal

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The third rivet had already sprung when Master Ruel told you to stop hammering and listen to the harbour bell. Down on the quay the tide was turning, and a cog with a torn sail was limping past the breakwater. You wiped your hands on the leather apron and went to the window, because Ruel never let anyone leave the forge with a plate half finished.

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The breastplate on the bench was a dozen bands, each hammered from the same grey iron, each lapping over the one below so a blade would skid rather than bite. Ruel had made it for a captain called Aske Morrow, who had paid in silver and then sailed for the south coast. Nobody had come back for the arm sleeve. You had laid out its rows of rivets yourself, counting them under your breath the way the old women counted beads at the chapel door.

The bell rang again, and this time there were boots on the cobbles, heavy and uneven, and a voice calling for the smith by name. Ruel reached past you for the shoulder guard, the rounded dome with its single boss, and handed it over without a word. Then he set a hand on your shoulder and said the plates would hold if you kept them oiled and polished. You nodded, though you did not yet know which of you he meant.

By dusk the shoulder guard shone like a mirror on the bench. In it you could see the gulls wheeling over the mast, the sea going grey behind them, and your own face bent low over the work, ready to start on the next band.