Small Town Local Jail
Bar fights, petty thievery and "causing a public disturbance" are often enough to attract the attention of the local constable, who will "invite" you to spend the night in a cell before the mayor decides your fate come morning. A cluster of three cells at the back of the constable's establishment, there isn't much to look at here. Four bare walls, grimy with years of filth and grafiti (the latter has been half-heartedly scrubbed out with soap and water, smearing the more offensive words into barely legible blurs) are illuminated by a single candle set in a wall bracket. The single door has a small slit at eye height and a slot at the bottom of the door that is opened at sundown to deliver hardtack and other prison rations, though torchlight from the hall outside leaks in under the doorframe at all times.
The constable gets few prisoners here, and his enthusiasm for having several at once has made him a bit overzealous. If the PCs wear strings with their footwear, the constable will confiscate them, "to keep ye from hangin' yerselves before mornin'". The cell's low cot is stripped of its linnens to keep the prisoners from tying them together to make an escape through the small, barred window to the ground below (never mind that the hole is too small for most men to fit through, and the cell is on the first floor anyway). He will also post a double guard (two relatively inexperienced, "trigger happy" young deputies) to walk up and down the hall all night, a game that they will quickly tire of when the constable's duty calls him elsewhere. If forced to double up prisoners, the constable will try to house the men and the women in separate cells.