Answer:
I cannot be felt, seen or touched. Yet I can be found in everybody. My existence is always in debate. Yet I have my own style of music.
Reaching stiffly for the sky, I bare my fingers when its cold. In warmth I wear an emerald glove and in between I dress in gold.
I can be cracked, I can be made. I can be told, I can be played.
If you're stealing honey, be prepared to receive vengeance in this form.
I have a title and many pages I am a genteel of genteel descent I am a killer veteran of war I am a slave to my lord Pledged to his service.
People take me on walks and I run and have fun. What am I?