With a gasp you open your eyes and find you're not in the forest anymore. Stone walls surround you and molded, musty straw cushions the ground. It smells strongly of ammonia and you wrinkle your nose. The only light in the room comes through the iron barred window in the thick, heavy door and that light is faint. You don't need to try the door to know it's locked but you do anyway. Taking time to look beyond the window you see one of the guards counting coins into the small man's hand. None look your way. You're in a prison or dungeon and, a quick pat of your clothing proves, have only your shirt and pants. The apron, shoes, socks, keys... they've all been removed. You slump back down onto the soiled straw and consider you're situation.
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There's not much to consider. You're not MacGyver and can't get yourself out of this with a shoelace and a lighter, not that you have either of those. Besides, the guard is approaching the cell door; you can hear his footsteps and the jingle of the keys.

I'm going to hide beside the door and attack him when he unlocks it.

My chances are probably better if I don't antagonize the law enforcement.