Hrolf scanned the battlefield with a sense of urgency. Ivar Greycloak, his liege, was lying motionless to his right, about to become a prisoner of the vicious Mercians. Hrolf's shieldwall was collapsing behind him, his brothers in arms losing their nerve. 

Desperate for guidance, he looked to his kinsmen, but they were nowhere to be found, save for his son Einar, fighting fiercely by his side. To make matters worse, the wound inflicted by a Mercian spear was throbbing with pain, demanding attention. 

The sun was setting, casting an ominous glow over the blood-soaked earth, as the carrion birds began to circle hungrily.

What should Hrolf do?  

Tend his wounds, or rally his warriors?  Would it be better if he got his men back into shieldwall or he summoned his separated Kinsmen back beside him?  Is rescuing Ivar all that ought to be on his mind? 

Or should Hrolf just draw his sword, turn to those still with a fight in them, and shout ‘Charge!’.  

What would you do?