Answer:
A dragon's tooth in a mortal's hand, I kill, I maim, I divide the land.
I march before armies, a thousand salute me. My fall can bring victory, but no one would shoot me. The wind is my lover, one-legged am I. Name me and see me at home in the sky.
Gold in a leather bag, swinging on a tree, money after honey in its time. Ills of a scurvy crew cured by the sea, reason in its season but no rhyme.
Some live in me, some live on. And some shave me to stride upon. I rarely leave my native land. Until my death I always stand. High and low I may be found. Both above and below ground.
Two bodies have I, though both joined in one. The more still I stand, the quicker I run.
You use it between your head and your toes, the more it works the thinner it grows.