It marks no named person. There is no inscription, no epitaph, nothing to tell a visitor whose death it once commemorated.

The slab itself is a tapering piece of stone, 1.55 metres long and narrowing from 0.58 metres at the top to 0.46 metres at the base, with part of its lower end now missing. What it does carry is a carefully worked design. A plain shaft rises to a cross-head enclosed within an outline circle, a format common to medieval Irish graveslabs, where the circular frame gives the composition a sense of containment and deliberate geometry. The cross itself is interlaced, eight-armed, with trefoil terminals, the trefoil being a three-lobed motif with deep roots in both Romanesque ornament and Christian iconography. At the very centre of this interlaced design sits a floral motif made up of eight triangular segments, small in scale but precise. Maher, writing in 1997, documented these details and noted that no evidence survives to suggest the stone ever carried lettering. Athassel was an Augustinian priory, founded in the late twelfth century on the banks of the River Suir in County Tipperary, and in its time was among the largest and most significant monasteries in Ireland. The chancel where this slab lies would have been the ritual heart of the complex, reserved for the clergy and, in houses like this, for the burial of important patrons.

Athassel Abbey is a state-managed ruin, freely accessible, and the remains are extensive enough that the chancel and its floor take a little orientation to find. The slab sits low and flush, easy to walk past without noticing, which perhaps makes the precision of its recorded measurements feel all the more deliberate.