Nothing broken... and Mo was able to walk, although he felt bruised and weak from the fall. Stupid, really, since he'd fallen farther off a broom in the past and walked away unscathed, but everything was sort of traumatic when he was in this state. He rubbed down his legs and arms and generally patted his ribcage, as if all that would assure him that he was fine.

He was fine-ish, but he'd have to see if the Healer would see him later. Mo struggled to his feet and continued on his quest. He was closing in on the last steps of it, surely, since he'd already been chased by a killer duck and nearly fallen to his death. Only so many death-defying moments were allowed before Mo would have to succumb to the temptation... to die.

Now then... what was that smell?